


Don't Say Your Love Is Killing Me

by Zhie



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bunniverse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 01:19:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: It takes a little persuading, but Gildor finally decides he had better sail to the West.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Erasure song of the same name.
> 
> Original finished some point prior to 2007.  
> Second ed. 4/4/2017.
> 
> But, in my defense of these edits... I am working with core materials that were edited repeatedly, so I feel like maybe I wouldn't be writing 'canon' if I didn't edit and revise the shit out of these like I have been...

“Gildor!” Glorfindel grinned as he passed by the open doors of the Hall of Fire, seeing his long-time lover amongst the crowd that Lindir was entertaining. When Gildor did little more than look over, Glorfindel entered and wound an arm around the elder ellon’s waist. “Darling, what are you doing here? We should be packing,” he said, reminding him of the ship that was to leave soon for Valinor.

“Are you going? Sailing West, that is,” questioned Gildor.

Nodding emphatically, Glorfindel said in a more hushed voice, “I thought we had discussed this already. We are to sail when Elrond and Aunt Galadriel leave. You have not forgotten, have you?”

Motioning that they should leave the hall, Gildor walked with Glorfindel to a corridor beneath one of the tall staircases of the homely house. “Fin, I decided weeks ago not to sail. Not yet,” he confirmed for a stunned Glorfindel.

“Well...” Finding he had no argument, he shrugged. “We can stay a little longer, then. I should let Elrond know, in case there are others who could use the space aboard the ship.”

“Fin.” Gildor sighed heavily and shook his head. “Fin, go to Valinor.”

“I can wait for you,” offered Glorfindel sincerely. With a smile, he took hold of his lover’s hand and squeezed it gently. “I love you; I want to sail with you.”

With a half-hearted smile, Gildor pulled his hand from Glorfindel’s grasp and placed it upon the younger’s shoulder. “Glorfindel, we need to end this.”

“What?” Shaking his head negatively as if he had heard wrong, Glorfindel uneasily laughed. “You mean... making these plans to sail that keep falling through?”

“No. You and I. We need to end this. Fin, your love is killing me. I just cannot stand it anymore,” admitted Gildor. “This needs to stop, whatever this is between us.”

“I... I thought it was love,” choked Glorfindel, shocked upon hearing the words spoken to him.

Gildor gathered his thoughts and replied, “The love in this relationship is one-sided. I would care if something happened to you, but less because of some kinship of our souls and more because you happen to be the best fuck I have ever had. Perhaps that is not entirely true,” corrected Gildor. "Maybe you do believe you love me - maybe you truly think you do - but we both know there is someone else who holds your heart, and I will not sit on a ship and list to you pine over him, because that is what will happen." Gildor shook his head. "And Enerdhil was the best fuck I ever had."

“You do not mean that,” Glorfindel gasped. “You cannot.”

“What? About Enerdhil? He was," replied Gildor, and it was probably one of the few honest things he said that evening.

"About us," whimpered Glorfindel.

Gildor shrugged. "When I first met you, you were so young and naive. I knew how good you would feel writhing under me. I knew how much fun it would be to break you in. Oh, and it was good- both times,” he smirked. “But Fin, honestly, what more is there? A few friendly fucks, and a warm bed. Nothing more. Besides, Glorfindel, we are cousins. Cousins, Fin. It never works between cousins.”

Saying nothing, Glorfindel clenched his teeth, swallowing hard as tears glistened in his eyes.

“Now what? Are you going to cry now?” Gildor looked away. “Well, it will not work on me, Fin. Not this time. I grew tired of you coming to me for comfort every damned time Erestor shoved you away, only to learn later you were back to flirting and laughing and secretly courting him. A man can only take so much of that bullshit. Go cry to him this time and see how far it gets you,” Gildor suggested. "It was fun while it lasted, Fin, but this was never forever. You need to stop deluding yourself."

Glorfindel sucked in air. "At least Erestor pushed me away with firm politeness. You made me believe you loved me."

"Maybe I did once," admitted Gildor. "Maybe I did. And then, maybe I got tired of the games - the games you play, the games he plays! Maybe I just thought, fuck it. If it meant comfortable lodgings and my ever whim answered while here, so be it. So I played the game, too. Sometimes we do what we must to survive."

“You used me.” Glorfindel’s voice was low as he fought his emotions back.

Gildor shrugged. “Yes. I suppose I did.”

“You bastard.” The first tear fell from his eye, and shamefully, Glorfindel pushed his way past Gildor. He wound around the stairs, quickly taking them two at a time with his head bowed, missing the figure standing halfway down and leaning on the banister, listening the entire time.

As Gildor was about to head back to the Hall of Fire, he heard a familiar voice behind him. “I thought you were better,” said Erestor as he took the rest of the steps slowly. “He has feelings, same as anyone else. You could have been a bit less blunt.”

“He will recover,” answered the wanderer. “What you seem not to understand is, I do not much care.”

Erestor paused as he came within a few paces of Gildor. “You know how much it meant to him to have someone who was like he is. The least you could have done was be gentle.”

Gildor crossed his arms over his chest. “If you are so much better, why not go after him? Dry his tears? Comfort him? Be his lover? No, you refuse to even consider the idea. The least you could have done was try," snarled Gildor. When Erestor did not answer, Gildor stepped closer. "If only he knew what you really are, you hypocrite."

"It was a different time," defended Erestor. "Things change. I changed." He shook his head. "You never did."

"Such a high and mighty attitude, to lecture me on life. You lived here for a long time, free from the worries of the world, while some of us risked our lives and more to keep safe the roads and make deliveries between kings and their... pets," he said, lingering on the word, and his lips curled up when he saw Erestor's eyes flick downward in shame. "Just because you lack a collar does not mean you are not seen for what you are."

"Stop changing the subject." Erestor closed the gap between them. "This is about your treatment of Glorfindel. You owe him an apology."

Gildor laughed. "I owe him nothing. Are you done?”

“Almost.” That was when Erestor drew back his arm at his side and brought his fist up under Gildor’s jaw.

\---

“M’lord! M’lord!” Elrond looked up upon hearing the frantic voice of Lindir. “Elrond, you must come- Erestor, and Gildor- fighting, by the main entrance-“ Gulping for air as Elrond hastily stood up from where he was crouched in his closet deciding what to pack, Lindir waved in the general direction of the main stairways. “He is looking very bad, Elrond. I think Erestor means to kill him, and-“

“What? Erestor?” Elrond shook his head and hurried past Lindir, who now followed him. “Erestor has injured Gildor?”

“And badly!” added Lindir. “There is blood everywhere, but I do believe all of it is Gildor’s!”

As the pair came down the stairway, they found a crowd of elves gathered about, watching the fight. Every time Gildor came after Erestor, for neither showed signs of stopping, the blond was either knocked away or shoved into the wall. It appeared that a few early swings had connected with Erestor, but that most of the damage had been done by the counselor.

“Enough!” Elrond battled his way through the crowd, shooing them away. “Everyone, back to your business, now!” As the guests and residents dispersed, Elrond advanced upon Erestor. Gildor was on the floor against the wall, clutching his jaw and groaning. “I do hope you have a damn good explanation.”

Breathing heavily, Erestor looked down at Gildor, then back to Elrond. “His words sent Glorfindel off in tears.”

“And so you retaliated like this?” Elrond thrust his hand in Gildor’s direction. “With violence?”

“M’lord, it- it is a bit more complicated than that,” spoke Melpomaen, who had been not far away and heard the conversation between Erestor and Gildor.

“We will discuss this later,” growled Elrond as he bent down and began to assess Gildor’s injuries. “Erestor, find yourself a healer. I must tend to Gildor’s injuries myself.”

Erestor nodded as he stuck the tip of his tongue out just enough to touch the corner of his mouth. He hissed when he felt a jab of pain from the cut he found, evident from the bitter taste now in his mouth. He was just turning around when he heard Gildor’s muffled voice behind him.

“So... how did you enjoy being whipped by him?”

In a moment, Erestor had turned on his heel. Gildor laughed and coughed and laughed again.

“Were your chivalrous acts worth it now? Tell me, was he worth the pain he put you through?”

“You told Turgon.” Erestor closed his eyes. “You bastard. You were the one who exposed him.”

“Took you long enough,” answered Gildor. "I had to do something to save my own skin."

Sliding past Elrond, Erestor grabbed the front of Gildor’s tunic and yanked him up from the ground, causing him to yelp in pain. “You are lucky I do not have the blood of my kin on my hands, for else I would otherwise have no reason not to kill you with my own hands right now. You had better be on that bloody ship to Valinor.”

“Or else what? Or else you will kill me?” Gildor snickered, grimacing from the pain in his face.

“Oh, no. No. Death would be too kind,” growled Erestor. “The things I would do to you no one here has the stomach to hear. So as I said – you had better be on that ship so that you need not find out just what happens when I get angry.” Erestor shoved Gildor back, forcing him to hit the wall again before slumping to the floor. “Maybe I have become disenfranchised. Perhaps I am just a pet, as you say -- but I am not your pet, and pets do still bite those who are not their masters when provoked. My teeth are sharp, and I have only just tasted blood. Understood?”

For a moment, Gildor seemed about to object. Looking up with contempt as Elrond and Lindir interceded to move them apart once again, he sneered at Erestor, “I will be on the next ship to Valinor.”

\---

It took Erestor hours before he found Glorfindel. The golden elf was on the roof, where he had looked twice before, but not well enough. “How are you?” he asked while sitting down, draping a blanket he had brought around Glorfindel’s shoulders.

“Cold, but...” Glorfindel was hunched forward, rubbing one hand with the other, then switching. “Just a little cold,” he said.

Erestor situated his hand on Glorfindel’s back, rubbing small, fast circles. “Gildor is going west.”

“A little late for that,” Glorfindel said ruefully. He began to rock back and forth a little. 

Wrapping his arms around his old friend, Erestor held him tightly. “Glorfindel, please, do not fade over him. I can not bear to think of you fading.”

“No, no, it will not happen,” assured Glorfindel. “He and I, we never bonded. He always told me it was because in case something happened to one of us. We were supposed to bind to one another in Valinor.” Crystal teardrops slid down Glorfindel’s cheeks and he let out a sob. “It hurts,” he cried out. “It hurts so bad!”

“I know. Oh, do I know,” answered Erestor. He drew Glorfindel closer, rocking him now. “I know it does.”

For a while, Erestor comforted Glorfindel upon the roof. He would need to explain later why he had never sought out a healer to care for his injuries, but Erestor knew the pain Glorfindel felt was worse than his own. 

“I love you,” blurted out the blond unexpectedly. “I love you so much. You have always been the one I loved. But... I... knew I could never be with you, so I... I thought he...” Weeping into the blanket as he leaned against Erestor, he mumbled, “I wish you could love me.”

“Oh, dear.” Erestor sighed sadly, biting his bottom lip, and wincing immediately. Licking the broken skin again, Erestor then placed his cheek against Glorfindel’ head. “I do love you, Glorfindel, but not in the way you would want. Not the way you need. I care about you a lot, but you know I am..." He set his jaw, then let out a breath. "I am just not that kind of elf.”

“I know,” sniffled Glorfindel. “I am sorry. I should never have said anything.”

“No, I am the one who is sorry,” apologized Erestor, kissing the top of the golden crown. “If only I was not this way, I could love you so easily in the way you want; in the way you need and deserve. I wish I could be what you want. I wish I could be your lover because I would never treat you like he did. But all I can do is be here for you the best I can as your friend.”

Glorfindel nodded, snuggling closer as he brushed the tears away with the back of his hand. “Right now, I think I need a friend much more than I need a lover.” And slowly, Glorfindel did not feel quite so cold.


End file.
